


Following His Lead

by r_grayjoy



Category: Tin Man (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-03
Updated: 2011-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-14 23:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r_grayjoy/pseuds/r_grayjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glitch is lost.  Cain wants to find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Following His Lead

  
**Following His Lead**   


_1: Cain: The West Tower_

As he stepped out of the tower and into the morning sunlight, Cain forced himself not to glance back over his shoulder at the looming structure that had served as the Sorceress Azkadellia's seat of power for fifteen long annuals. It felt strange to be walking casually right through the front door rather than sneaking out the bowels of the place through some vast machine. Cain couldn't shake the feeling that the Longcoats were right behind him, ready to grab him and drag him back to the iron suit in chains.

Cain forced the thought away, adjusted his gun holster, and began walking toward the road that led east. The Sorceress' men were long gone and the tower was now firmly in the hands of those loyal to the rightful Queen. Many of the former resistance members were making their homes here, at least temporarily while they helped to restore the O.Z. to its former glory. As if on cue to Cain's thoughts, a man Cain recognized from Jeb's band came into sight and nodded to him in greeting. Cain touched the brim of his hat as he passed and continued on his way.

A little over two moons had passed since the witch possessing Azkadellia had been dispatched and the long, arduous rebuilding process had begun. Following the eclipse, Cain and his unlikely band of companions had returned to the Northern Island, their first task to make the palace habitable once more. The Queen said it would serve as a symbol to the people, and Cain figured it was as good a place to start as any. While it was still far from fully restored to its previous splendor, the palace now served as a base of operations of sorts while everyone did their part to return the Light to the O.Z. They'd all been so busy that it had taken Cain a couple of days to notice that Glitch was missing.

Initially, when Cain had realized that he and Glitch hadn't crossed paths in a while, he'd told himself it wasn't terribly strange, as occupied as they'd been. Something about it hadn't felt right to him, though, and Cain had learned to trust his gut instincts -- he'd never have survived as a tin man if he hadn't. He'd asked around and had quickly discovered that no one else had seen Glitch in at least two days either.

DG had suggested that maybe Glitch had gone back to the West Tower to commune with his marbles and had simply forgotten to tell anyone he was leaving. That would be like Glitch, Cain supposed, but somehow that hadn't seemed like the right answer. Still, the tower was the most logical place to start looking, so Cain had set out immediately.

That had been a day and a half ago. Cain had arrived at the tower late yesterday afternoon and had been wholly unsurprised to hear that Glitch hadn't been there in weeks. It had only served to confirm what Cain's gut had been telling him all along: Glitch had run away.

Setting a brisk traveling pace, Cain kept watch on the twin suns as they rose steadily in the sky. Glitch had a three day head start on him, and he could be virtually anywhere in the O.Z. by now. That was all right. Cain was a tin man. He'd track Glitch down.

 _2: Cain: Central City_

Central City. The Shining City on the Hill. It was said that anything one sought could be found within its walls. Cain certainly hoped it was true in this case. Or at least that Glitch had believed it to be true and had come here in search of… whatever he was seeking. Things had been so much simpler when Glitch had just been looking for his brain.

The seedy, desperate air that had permeated the city during Azkadellia's reign was already receding, although the newly-reinstated tin men would have their work cut out for them in cleaning it up entirely. Cain knew he could be a part of that if he wished; he'd been told that he had a job with the Central City Police -- and a high ranking one at that -- waiting for him whenever he chose to take it. _If_ he chose to take it. So much had changed, and Cain was still deciding upon his place in this post-Azkadellia O.Z. He seemed to be having a harder time with that than most. More so than Glitch, at any rate.

Once the fighting had ended and the dust had settled, Glitch had been able to regain the bulk of his memories from the long lost half of his brain. After that, he'd fallen naturally back into his old role as friend and advisor to the Queen, almost as though the annuals in between had never happened. He'd quickly busied himself with the palace repairs and the creation of various peculiar gadgets to help speed the process along. When Cain spotted Glitch these days, more often than not he was rushing from one place to another, absorbed in some task.

Cain was always careful to call him "Ambrose" now, but he couldn't help thinking of him as "Glitch" privately. It was probably foolishly sentimental, and he chided himself for not letting the silly name go. Of course Ambrose would prefer to be called by his proper name, now that he actually remembered what it was. It was just that Cain thought maybe he'd liked it better when it had just been Glitch.

Ambrose was more reserved than he'd been before; more diplomatic, more dignified. More distant. Harder to read. Every now and then, when Ambrose got excited about some idea or other and forgot himself, Cain thought he saw a bit of the old Glitch peeking through. It was always gone as quickly as it had come, though, and Cain could never be certain it had been there at all. Cain did his best to act like nothing had changed for Glitch's sake, but in truth, he wasn't completely sure who Glitch -- Ambrose -- was anymore.

Winding his way through the crowded streets of the city, Cain shook his head to dislodge his useless train of thought. None of that explained why _Ambrose_ had left without warning, and it didn't get Cain any closer to finding him. Quickly regaining his focus, Cain turned left down a broad, cobbled street and headed for the theatre district.

Although he might no longer have the connections he once did, Cain still knew where to go for information; still knew how to grease palms for gossip. Some things never changed. By late afternoon, however, he was beginning to think that Glitch hadn't come through the city at all. Cain had spent the better part of the day asking around, but no one had seen a headcase lately, in court attire or otherwise. Granted, Glitch could have made himself less noticeable simply by wearing a hat, but Cain had shown old photos of Ambrose as well, and that hadn't jogged any memories either. Cain didn't really think Glitch had the sophistication to hide out in Central City, but then again, it was a big place with lots of ways to disappear.

The lack of progress was discouraging, but Cain wasn't one to give up so easily. He knew from experience that gathering information could take time, and it was entirely possible that he simply hadn't tried the right parts of the city yet. Of course, if Glitch wasn't there, he'd only be getting farther away while Cain wasted time on a dead end. All he knew for certain was that this district wasn't yielding any results. Without entirely knowing where he intended to go, Cain spun on his heel, and that was when his luck did a sudden about-face as well.

As Cain turned, his eyes landed on an obnoxiously loud suit bobbing through the crowd. An obnoxiously loud suit worn by a distinctly familiar owner. Pushing his way past a slow-moving group of teenagers, Cain took off in pursuit.

His hand falling heavily on a burgundy-clad shoulder, Cain said, "Not so fast, Demilo. I'd like a word."

Antoine Demilo froze mid-step, then turned to face Cain, an expression of annoyance fixed on his features. "Wyatt Cain. Anyone ever told you that you have a way of coming back like a bad case of the clap?"

"Yeah, I might've heard that once or twice," Cain said. "What are you up to, Demilo?"

"Not much, without my accoutrements," Demilo accused. "Where's my wagon, Cain?"

"That old heap of junk? Trust me, we did you a favor taking it off your hands."

Demilo leaned forward and glared up at Cain in a futile attempt to look menacing. "One man's junk is another man's profit. And anyway, you didn't seem to think it was junk when you were in a spot and needed a lift! I want it _back_ ," he spat.

At the best of times Cain's patience for Demilo's theatrics ran short. This was not the best of times. Grabbing Demilo by his gaudy lapel, Cain shoved him into the nearest alley and up against the wall. "Yeah? Well, your attitude isn't exactly inspiring me to give a damn about what you want."

Predictably, Demilo folded like a cheap tent. "A'right, fine, whaddaya want? You have my attention."

Cain loosened his hold on Demilo. Slightly. "You want to know where your truck is; I want to know where my friend is. Maybe we can work out an exchange of information."

"Your friend?" Demilo asked incredulously. "The zipperhead?"

Excitement sped through Cain at Demilo's words, but he maintained a nonchalant tone as he said, "So you _have_ seen him."

"I might have," Demilo hedged.

Demilo made a satisfying squeak when Cain slammed him back against the wall. "All right, all right! Yeah, he came through town about three or four days ago. Didn't stay long, though; just went right on through."

"Which way did he go?"

"He left through the south gate."

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Smiling, Cain gave Demilo a patronizing slap on the cheek. "Been a pleasure, Demilo, as always."

As Cain began to turn away, Demilo grabbed his arm. "Hey! We had a deal. My wagon?"

"It's up near the Northern Island. Things are starting to thaw out up there, but I suggest you take a shovel just in case. Oh, and a mechanic. The truck's not going anywhere until you fix the broken axel."

Cain walked away to the sound of Demilo cursing his name. Smiling to himself, Cain lowered the brim of his hat and quickened his pace. There was no doubt in his mind -- or perhaps his gut -- where Glitch had gone, and Cain would be caught up to him in two days' time.

 _3: Glitch: The Realm of the Unwanted_

His head propped on his fist, Glitch peered into the dregs of his glass and sighed. Idly he wondered if one could get twice as intoxicated with only half a brain for the alcohol to affect. Then he decided that such thinking was a sure sign that he hadn't had nearly enough to find out yet, and he motioned for the scantily-clad bar maid to bring him another.

Literally overnight, everything in the O.Z. had changed. And yet nothing had changed. There'd been no way to restore Glitch's brain to its previous intact state. He'd hoped that they might be able to put his missing marbles back in his head, but Azkadellia's Medicoats had never come up with a procedure for doing so. Clearly they'd never intended for the process to be reversed.

Glitch _had_ been able to regain the bulk of his memories. With the aid of Raw and the other Viewers, he'd been able to connect with the incognizant portion of his brain where much of his prior life seemed to be stored and relocate the memories to his conscious mind. It was an amazing experience, really, like an epiphany, or a moment of intense clarity, or one of those rare instances when a complex idea springs to mind fully-formed.

His sense of self hadn't come along with those memories in the way that he'd expected, though. He remembered being Ambrose; remembered being the Queen's trusted advisor, a brilliant scholar and inventor and strategist, a man of noble bearing and dignity. He remembered being Ambrose, but he wasn't Ambrose anymore. His synapses still misfired with disturbing regularity. He was still easily distracted and off kilter. He was still glitching.

He didn't know _who_ he was now.

No one else seemed to know either. Glitch couldn't stand the way people treated him these days. The Queen talked to him as though no time had passed at all and he was still the Ambrose she'd known a decade ago, but there was pity in her eyes when she looked at him. Despite his best efforts to act normally, DG and the others seemed to sense that he wasn't quite the same person anymore, and they were awkward around him, all forced gaiety and uncomfortable silences.

Glitch especially couldn't stand the way Cain could no longer seem to meet his gaze. Cain walked on eggshells around him, as though Glitch were damaged somehow, or an unpredictable stranger. It made him want to grab Cain, to shake him and shout at him and make him _just be himself_ , because then maybe Glitch wouldn't have such a hard time remembering who _he_ was supposed to be, and damn it, Cain was supposed to be the _steady, dependable one_ , by the gods! But that would likely only prove that Glitch was damaged and unpredictable, so he just kept pretending that he didn't notice Cain's distance and hoping Cain would warm up to him again.

Or he had, until he simply couldn't take it anymore and left. He'd slipped out early in the morning and headed straight for the Realm of the Unwanted. Briefly, he wondered if anyone had even noticed that he was gone yet, in all the hustle and bustle. And when they did eventually notice, whether they'd be more concerned or relieved.

He didn't really know why he'd chosen the Realm. The first time he'd visited, the overt incongruity and lawlessness of the place had held a sort of alien allure for him, but now it just felt appropriate somehow. He didn't really know what he intended to do there, either. Find himself? Wasn't that precisely what he'd spent a decade attempting to do? He'd found himself all right, submerged in a glass tank in Azkadellia's Tower. Perhaps now he simply wanted to forget everything. It was ironic, really. He'd spent annuals trying to regain his memories, and now that he had them, he only wanted oblivion. The grass was always greener and all that.

The bar maid returned with Glitch's drink and he accepted it with half-hearted thanks. Holding the glass aloft, he gazed at the lights of the tavern shining dimly through the pale liquid and muttered, "To the other side of the fence."

 _4: Cain: Finaqua_

The lakes of Finaqua were still dried up, the lands overgrown and desolate. The region would recover in time, Cain knew. The Light would extend its reach here soon enough, and steadily the wellsprings of magic would return. For now, however, the place looked just as it had the day DG had led them all through the hedge maze to this spot.

Standing beside the old swing, one hand gripping the weathered rope, Cain looked across the scorched earth and wondered what the hell he was doing there. As soon as he'd discovered that Glitch was missing, Cain had taken off in pursuit. He'd been trekking across the O.Z. for four solid days, and he hadn't even stopped to consider _why_ he was bothering to track down someone who apparently didn't wish to be found.

Cain had only known Glitch a short while, and they'd initially teamed up purely out of chance and necessity. If they'd met under other circumstances, Cain probably wouldn't even like the flighty man. Nonetheless, he couldn't deny that he _did_ like Glitch. Somehow, with his honest demeanor and sarcastic humor Glitch had gotten past Cain's armor, had become someone for whom Cain would willingly lay down his life to protect.

Further, Cain thought he still knew Glitch fairly well, even if he _had_ changed since they'd passed through Finaqua together. With crystal clarity Cain remembered the way Glitch had informed them that his name was Ambrose, his tone so calm, so cold. That moment in the brain room had marked the beginning of the change. Yet the more Cain thought about it now, the more he was sure that Glitch hadn't _really_ changed all that much.

Cain recalled the many times he'd observed Glitch since the eclipse, always rushing about the palace as though a pack of mobats were hot in pursuit. Somehow, all that running seemed a bit directionless, Cain decided, and Glitch seemed… Glitch seemed lost. And Cain figured that meant Glitch really did want to be found after all. And _that_ was precisely why Cain was going after him, he realized. Glitch wanted to be found, and Cain wanted to be the one to find him. It was as simple as that.

 _5: Cain: The Realm of the Unwanted_

The haphazard strings of lights and the denizens in masks and outlandish garb gave the Realm of the Unwanted the feel of a macabre festival, a carnival of the damaged and forgotten. It was an endless Saturday night populated by waifs and strays, those shunned and broken by society and in search of a place to belong -- or to disappear. Cain's heart hammered in his chest as he made his way through the narrow streets. Glitch was here, he could feel it.

A few carefully-worded questions and well-placed platinums led Cain to a small tavern set back in a quieter corner of the Realm. Upon entering the establishment, he immediately spotted Glitch sitting in a far corner, hunched over his drink in a pose common to the forlorn and the hopeless. Cain stopped just inside the entryway, but after a moment Glitch must have sensed that he was being watched. He looked up at Cain, blinked twice, and his face lit up in wide-eyed wonder. Something inside Cain leapt sharply at seeing that expression again. Forcing his feet into action, he moved toward Glitch's table.

"Cain?" Glitch said as soon as Cain was within earshot, his tone disbelieving.

Cain had the crazy urge to crack a grin and say something silly and familiar to Glitch, something like, 'Good morning, Sweetheart,' or, 'Wanna dance?' He wasn't certain how Glitch would take that just now, though, so he settled for a more subdued greeting. "Ambrose," he said with a nod.

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Glitch's expression immediately crumpled and turned hard. "My name's not Ambrose. It's Glitch."

Taken aback by Glitch's bitter tone, Cain didn't know what to say in response. He finally decided on, "Mind if I sit down?"

Glitch waved his hand vaguely at the chair beside him, and Cain, taking that as an invitation, however unenthusiastic, sat and turned to face Glitch. "You left without telling anyone where you were going."

Snorting sourly, Glitch took a swallow of his drink. Cain noted that it had a cherry in the bottom. "That's normally what one does when running away, yes," Glitch said.

Well. If Glitch was willing to get straight to the point for a change, Cain was certainly all right with that. "Why'd you run away?" he asked.

Setting his glass down and tracing his finger absently over the rim, Glitch slumped in defeat. "I don't belong there. Not anymore. I did once, before…" He glanced up as if to indicate the zipper atop his head. "But it's not the same now. _I'm_ not the same. I tried, Cain, I really did," he said fervently, pleading with Cain to believe him.

"You can't go back to being the person you were before your brains were taken any more than I can go back to being the person I was before the iron suit. Experiences change people," Cain said mildly.

"I know that. I know that!" Glitch said, thumping his fist on the worn table in frustration.

"Then why are you trying?"

"It's what everybody wants," Glitch said.

To the contrary, it wasn't what Cain wanted at all. In fact, what he wanted was pretty much the complete opposite. Rather than voicing this thought, Cain said, "No one expects you to pretend to be someone you're not."

Looking down at his glass once more, Glitch said, "I just don't want to let everyone down. And I want… I just want my pride back."

"Now that," Cain said, cocking his head to the side, "I don't think you ever lost."

Glitch frowned. "What do you mean?"

After pausing a moment to consider his answer, Cain said, "When I met you, you couldn't remember your past, but you knew you were smart and that you'd been important once. You never forgot that, even when _other people_ ," Cain gave Glitch a pointed look, "only looked at you and saw a criminal. You stood up for yourself, against me, against the Longcoats. Remember?"

"Yeah, but--"

"But nothin'. You always carried yourself with dignity, even if your clothes were torn and your memories were missing. You made all of us believe in you, half a brain or no."

When Cain stopped speaking, Glitch stared at him in open astonishment and confusion. His mouth worked silently for a moment before he finally scrunched up his face and asked, "Cain, why are you here?"

Cain shrugged. "Somebody had to come get you." Glitch was still looking at him like mobats had flown out of his ears, so Cain rolled his eyes, pushed his chair back, and said, "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Whoa, wait, it's not that simple," Glitch protested. "You think you can just walk in here and… and tell me you _believe_ in me, and that fixes everything?"

"Nope. You've never been that easy as long as I've known you." Perhaps that was exactly why Glitch had been worth hiking across half the O.Z. for, Cain thought. Because Cain was a pragmatic and cynical man who'd long since ceased to be amazed by much of anything, and yet Glitch, with only half a brain at his disposal, continuously managed to challenge and surprise him. "I just mean let's get out of this bar and go someplace quieter where we can talk. Okay?"

Glitch studied Cain a few second longer, then nodded. "All right."

 _6: Glitch: The Endless Fields_

The field was full of fireflies.

True night had fallen outside the Realm, and when Glitch followed Cain up the ladder to the hatch, they emerged in darkness. It took Glitch a moment to gain his bearings, then his first thought was that they were surrounded by stars. _Not stars. Fireflies,_ his half-brain supplied. Hundreds of them, thousands, their yellow-green lights dipping and zagging all around in a primal, indecipherable dance.

Glitch walked with Cain in silence for several yards, then abruptly stopped and flopped to the ground. Cain sat down beside him without comment. "Aren't they amazing?" Glitch asked, indicating the flickering insects swirling around them. "They can make their own light and they don't even need magic or machines to do it. Imagine never being alone in the dark…"

With a shake of his head, Glitch continued. "The Light is returning -- in more ways than one. I remember there always used to be fireflies here in the south, back before Azkadellia took over. I think this is the first time I've seen them since then. It's a good sign, don't you think?" Without waiting for an answer, Glitch sighed and said, "Not that it changes anything for me. The fireflies may have found their place again, but I still don't have one. Oh, but you don't want to hear about that."

"Yeah, I do," Cain finally cut in.

"But it's ridiculous. No one else has had this kind of," Glitch waved one hand vaguely while he searched for the right words, "difficulty adjusting."

"Yes they have, actually," Cain replied. "I have."

"You?" Glitch asked, incredulous. When Cain only gave him a look, Glitch pressed further, "Really?"

Cain sighed. "Look, it's just… I know what you mean about everyone wanting things to go back to normal. Hell, _I_ want things to go back to normal. The problem is, I don't know what 'normal' is these days. I haven't figured out what I'm going to do from now on."

"You can go back to the tin men," Glitch suggested. "You were offered a job with them, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure if I want to go back to being a tin man. Things are different now."

"Great," Glitch said, a grin forming on his face instantly. "Then you can stay at the palace and just keep doing what you've been doing." Glitch rather liked that idea. It was much better than Cain leaving for Central City.

"What's that?" Cain asked. "Taking up space and trying to keep up with you?"

Rolling his eyes, Glitch said, "In case you hadn't noticed, the Queen trusts you. She listens to what you have to say about security, police, strategy, the rebuilding effort… You're basically one of her advisors now. You _have_ a place already and you don't even realize it!"

"I could say the same thing about you," Cain said. "It's obvious you understand the Queen and the inner workings of the palace better than you think you do. You haven't lost that. You've just stopped trusting your gut."

Glitch blinked twice, then was struck with the thought that perhaps he and Cain might be similar in ways he'd never suspected. A mischievous smile stretched his lips as he remarked, "You know, we'd make a hell of an advising team. The Queen would be lucky to have us."

The corner of Cain's mouth twitched up as he replied, "I'm not wearing one of those ridiculous waist coats."

"Oh, but you'd be dashing in one, Cain," Glitch teased.

"No way."

"Not even for me?"

When Cain didn't respond right away, Glitch wondered if maybe Cain didn't realize he was only joking. Then he thought maybe he _wasn't_ joking, not entirely. Cain was giving him a peculiar look, and Glitch suddenly felt hot all over. So close, Cain was so close, and was this is first time they'd ever been truly alone together? Just them and the fireflies…

"No way," Cain repeated. "DG would never let me live it down."

"DG…" Glitch said, the spell broken. "Raw… I wonder if any of the others are having the same sort of problems we've been having and just, you know, not saying anything about it. I think we should talk to them."

"So does that mean you're coming back with me?" Cain asked, arching one eyebrow.

Glitch flashed a wry smile. "I suppose it does."

They watched the fireflies dance to the nighttime sounds for several moments, then Glitch asked quietly, "Cain. Why'd you come after me?"

"Someone had to come get you."

It was the same explanation Cain had given back in the tavern, but Glitch wasn't satisfied with it. "No," he said. "No, they didn't. So why did you?"

Cain met Glitch's gaze and opened his mouth as though he would speak, but no words came. Expressions, thoughts flashed across Cain's face in such rapid succession that Glitch couldn't begin to make them out. Glitch watched Cain's lips, waiting for an answer to his question. A heartbeat passed, two. Then there was a hand on the side of Glitch's face, fingers gently tilting his head up, a thumb stroking across his cheek.

"Cain…" Glitch breathed, and then he could speak no more. Firm lips were pressed to his and oh, by the gods, Cain was _kissing_ him! Cain was kissing him and it was like every synapse in his head was firing at once, like a thousand brilliant ideas were all coming to him at once, and he never wanted the cascade to stop. Glitch reached up and tangled his fingers in Cain's coat, wordlessly thanking him for coming to find him, begging him not to leave without him.

At last Cain ended the kiss and pulled away. "That's why," he said.

"Oh." Glitch blinked, attempting to regain his senses. "Well, that's a perfectly good reason if you ask me." He licked his lips and gave a small, nervous giggle. "Which I suppose you didn't, but I--"

"C'mere, Glitch." Cain slung his arm around Glitch and pulled him close in the near-darkness.

"Oh, but… Cain, what about--"

"Shh," Cain soothed, cutting off Glitch's concerned ramble before it could begin. "Everything else is the past. It's a new O.Z. And it's about time we found our place in it."

"Yeah," Glitch said. "Yeah."

As Glitch sat comfortably pressed up against Cain's side while the fireflies completed their dance, he could only think that the Light truly had returned to the O.Z.


End file.
